A Summer Storm
by The Abbot of Beregost
Summary: COMPLETE!It began with a summer storm, setting in motion events which would change Sam and Jack forever. Rated on the strong side, for no real reason.Well, maybe spite.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Inspired by a storm I watching tonight. I sat out there, listening to Darling Violetta's _Smaller God_, and just...watched. Strange what happens when you just take a moment and observe. Nature yarr. No clue when it's set, or why. One shot, SJ, and before you ask for more, read my profile and go digging around my other works. Of course, there will be more, but I mostly do one-shots. Not to be rude or anything...but I'm very proud of things like Eyes. At any rate, enjoy.

Flashes of lightning of the horizon.

The rain wasn't there yet. The clouds hung low over Jack's place. He was outside, leaning on the porch, beer in hand. The blackness of evening dreariness was lit by the blue-white flashes, outlining clouds. Peals of thunder would roar through the sultry, charged air and reverberate in his chest cavity. Jack sighed, closed his eyes.

_Close your eyes, and it's gone. _

Another arc of lightning split the sky. There was something primal and...appealing to him about a good storm. The feeling in the air, the tenseness. People found beauty in the animate things in nature- trees, animals. But Jack...Jack found it in a storm. He had been in enough of them to really appreciate them.

_I wish she was here._

There was only one 'she' worth mentioning anymore. He didn't know if she liked the storms, but it would have made the experience perfect for him. The first drops of rain came down slowly, heavy thumps into the grass. More thunder. Jack breathed in the air. The storm had begun, and nothing was going to stop it now. He just had to sit back and enjoy. But instead, he stood. He didn't know what he was waiting for.

_You know what you're waiting for. _

The first sheet of rain hit the asphalt with an audible slap. Jack grinned, took a sip from his bottle of Corona. It was coming down in sheets, turning the streetlight's amber glow into a hazy, distant orb. The wind had picked up, sending the rain down at an angle. the impacts on the roof above showered him in a fine mist as he watched the water collide with pavement, throwing up tiny geysers all over the road. Visibility was nil.

_But she's not coming, Jack. _

There was a thick layer of rain sluicing towards the storm grates, racing across his grass. He stared at his beer, suddenly lit by the cloven sky, and not by his houselights. The power was out. He looked around, the shadows suddenly very close and very warm. They seemed alive with small noises, small indescribable noises. His beer was more than half gone, anyways. He considered retreating inside.

_Hear that?_

Some tiny instinct had been tripped. The darkness was nearly complete, but Jack still looked. Another bolt of lightning revealed a single figure approaching his property at a run. More than that, cutting onto his grass towards him.

_Who...?_

The drum peal of thunder rolled through him, and his houselights flickered back on with some difficulty. In their ruddy glow, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair in the pouring rain. A jacket, a leather jacket in the shadows. The figure approached, stopped just shy of his sight.

"Sir...Jack."

"Oh, shit. Carter...Carter, c'mere. "

She took a step into the light. Carter was soaked, from the top of her head to her riding boots. Streams of water- Jack wasn't sure if some of it was tears or not- ran down her face. Her blue eyes were wide, almost indigo in the low light. She stepped from the shadows and into his embrace. They pulled together, Sam's arms curling under his and onto his back. Jack wrapped his arms around her waist and held her close, felt her trembling. She pressed her face into the nape of his neck, and suddenly pulled away.

"Jack...Colonel, your clothes..."

He too was rather wet. There was a Carter-shaped imprint on his front. He grinned sheepishly.

"S'fine, Carter. C'mon in, let me get you some coffee or something. You must be cold."

He turned around, beer in hand, and disappeared inside. He had left the door open for her.

"Yessir."

She took a timid step into his house, and closed the door behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: **Oh lord, the language! Due to popular demand, another chapter. I'm a sucker for peer pressure.

Jack heard the door close as he pulled his shirt over his head. He knew Sam was watching, he didn't care. He heard the closet slide open, the slap of wet leather.

_Always polite, that girl. _

Sam watched Jack pad off into the depths of his house, hugging herself. She could feel a reptilian warmth bubble inside of her, despite the chill. Basic instincts arose- _foodsexwarmthsleep_. Her boots were full of water, and she left a trail of droplets whenever she tried to move. Finally, she simply gave in. She slumped back against the door, and sat down in a puddle.

_What the hell am I doing?_

"Christ on a cross, Carter! What happened?"

Jack had another shirt on, unbuttoned. Scarred, taut flesh framed by white cotton. He tossed her a blanket, a comforter. It smelled of dank and him. She pulled it close, and those primal instincts rose once again.

"I...I was m-m-motorcycling..."

She was shivering as she followed him into his living room. Lots of wood, fireplace, rug, couch. Man-smell, man-place. Not just in that masculine sense, like on the base, but in that basic sense. Instinctive, in that fight-or-flight sense. Messy and practical.

"Rain?"

The chattering of her teeth beat a counterpoint to the rain on the windows.

"B-b-b-blew...g-gasket..."

Every word a struggle. Sam tensed her jaw, trying to speak. Words broken by the cadence of thunder.

"Oh, fuck it Sam, get over to the fireplace. Turn the damn thing on, I'm getting you some coffee."

He stalked back off into the house, and she heard him fumbling around. Her trembling hand reached out out, flicked the switch on the wall. The little flames sprang to life behind the glass, heat slowly seeping through. The rain continued to pound the windows.

_Forces of nature, tonight- all of them beautiful._

She looked around as she rubbed herself down. Woodland scenes, pictures, beer bottles. Her fingertips began to tingle, so she pulled them back. She curled up her knees, rested her chin on them as she shifted beneath the heavy comforter. Her clothes were starting to soak through it. It was a vague, damp feeling that left her feeling inexplicably embarrassed. She suppressed the urge to strip out of her clothes, lie down and wrap her arms around her man.

_My man. It's so right...but it isn't. _

Jack fiddled with the coffee maker and managed to burn himself. He cursed, poured the stuff out into the mugs. They steamed a little as he carried them out to her. She was there, staring mindlessly into the flames, lost in some far off thought...or perhaps a memory. She stared up at him wanly, hair still dripping. Trembling hands, slender digits reached out to him and caught a cup. A bolt of lightning light the room, casting bizarre shadows.

_Lookit her._

She said nothing, slurped the coffee loudly. He sat down beside her, a smaller heat emerging through his proximity. Something was doing flips and loops in Sam's stomach. Without thinking, she leaned against him. The heat continued to radiate through the blanket, growing slowly warmer. Those basic instincts were rising again. She was getting warm, but she was hungry, sleepy, and damn horny.

_It's perfect, almost. Why ruin it? Close as we'll ever get. Fucking regs, I could have married him. Could have been happy._

Jack smiled, looped an arm around her. They snuggled in the dank, both of them damp as they drank coffee. It lasted almost twenty minutes, not a word between them as they watched the dance and leap. He sighed, inside. A perfect night, all in all. What more could he want? But she was still shivering and wet.

"Ca- Sam, go and take a shower. Grab whatever you need, you're going to get a bitch of a cold. if you dont' warm up."

She stood, nodding as her blanket swept over his face.

_Absolutely perfect._

Sam stripped and showered, trying to ignore the thrill. His soap. His smell. His bathroom. His house. It felt so right to be there, so natural. There had been some days where she dreamt of living here, without knowing what it looked like. Oh, she had let Janet show her all his personal information, memorized his address. She wrapped the towel around herself, dressed herself in his clothes. Then, it all went wrong.

_Stolen intimacy._

She suddenly felt like an intruder in his life, a voyeur. But walking back, seeing that smile of his as he poked around the fridge in his damp clothes, made it all better.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N**: The final piece for a little while, at least. I must tend to meatworld concerns, like employment. At least I have chicken. In the meantime, I've got plenty of other good-to-great stories. Check my profile. And someone email me to remind me that this exists eventually, okay?

Eggos. He was making Eggos for the both of them. She could see beyond him, into the kitchen, an open cabinet. It was packed with junk food, cereals. Pop tarts. He lived an eternal breakfast, meals either charred meat or the basic diet of a college student. She smiled and shook her head, pulling the Michigan Wolverines t-shirt closer. His smell brought awareness, a sharpening of those simple mammalian urges.

_Jack. Jack, you need me. Need me as much as I need you._

She wore an old pair of jeans with one of his positively ancient tees, pants sagging and showing a damp expanse of panty. He smiled, trying to concentrate on the toaster. The wind was starting to slow outside, he could hear it. Sam was staring at him, and he tried to hide his enjoyment. It wasn't often that he had people inside his house, but he could get used to her being a fixture there.

_Since when did Carter get to be fair game?_

She leaned against the doorframe, still watching and smiling. The inside of the shirt was grainy against bare skin. Her man, her mate - because that's what he was, in the most basic sense, in the way of the pack and the herd - was looking after her. The alpha male. She couldn't help but feel happy. Sure, her motorcycle was totaled and she was probably going to be sick for a week, but that was fine. She had Jack, even for those few moments.

_Humans follow nature's path. Daniel's explanation of the wolf pack._

Jack remembered once watching Daniel explain the structure of a pack to Teal'c. It was simple, really- the sexes were divided, with an alpha male and an alpha female, each the leaders of two inseparable, smaller social entities. A strict hierarchy, not unlike the airforce. He snickered a little- ironic. Of all the SG personnel, he and Carter were the clear alphas. By all rights in the wild, they would be mates as long as the other lived. That thought gave rise to other, warmer ones which he quashed.

_Regs. Regs. Regs._

The word helped him beat hope into a corner, threatened it with something sharp and black that threatened to send his world crashing down. Without the SGC, where would he be? Drunk or dead or both. On the streets, without her. He heard the clunk of his appliance, blinked. Two deformed Eggos awaited consumption. He pulled them both out with his bare hands, juggling as he tossed one sidehand to Carter.

_See? So simple. This is how it should be._

She caught it, scorched herself a little before taking a bite. She judged him a little, then smiled. He seemed happy enough, eager to please her. He smiled, kept his distance. He she smiled, respected it. Tenseness, the wolf's mentality. Posturing for position, bluffing to judge reaction. She ate quickly, stood around and listened as he finished his waffle. The rain was little more than a drizzle, thunder a distant rumble. He turned his back to her, almost. Leaned forwards on the counter to look out the window. Every cell in Sam's body compelled her to walk over to him, wrap her arms around his waist, and rest her chin on his shoulder. Watch the rain stop with him.

_What would he do? _

It was time. He was tired, in body at least. Time to sleep, work in the morning, his mind told him.

"Carter, there's a guest room down the hall to your left. It's right beside mine, so wake me up if you need anything. Right now, I need to get my old ass to bed."

He walked off without another word. It was better that way, less risk. He closed the door, stripped down to his boxers, and clambered into bed. He felt...alone. It was an opportunity missed.

_Suffering is good for the soul. _

She rolled around in the bed. It was too small, had the musty scent of disuse. She rolled, the craving for companionship -his companionship, not even sex anymore, just to be close to him- battling the need for sleep. She threw the blankets off herself, determined to take those few steps. She checked herself for decency- tee, no bra, panties. Good enough.

_What the fuck, right? Nothing to lose except him._

Jack stirred, felt sleep disturbed. Thin arms over his, a body close. That didn't bother him, until his upper brain remembered that Sarah had been gone for years. His eyes opened, but he didn't look over his should to see who it was. He knew. Instead, their fingers interlaced, and Sam let a contented murmur slip as he went back to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** All of you better thank Natters. Due to her and the various hooks she has in me, I have been pressured (ei coerced) into adding another chapter far sooner than I expected. As a result, The soonest possible time another chapter - if such a chapter is forthcoming- can be expected will be Friday. In the meantime, as previously mentioned, I have plenty of kickass stories already up. Eyes and Three Little Words seem to be the favorites of my fanatically devoted. Also, reviews and emails are much appreciated. Check my damn profile. Of course, this is dedicated to Mistress Natters.

Light managed to find its way into the room. Jack rolled on his stomach, felt a presence move with him. He curled closer to it, without remembering quite who it was. All that mattered was the tiny primitive voice in his head that told him that yes, it was okay. That presence was his mate, his woman. He grunted, and the alarm went off. Eyes cracked open to see a thin beam of grey light peeking through curtains, and the red of the clock's numbers- 6:00. He groaned and slapped irritable at it, rolled a bit. A golden halo of blond hair rested on the pillow beside him. The face below it was calm, serene. Carter. She slept peacefully, a smile on those lips he longed to kiss.

_WHAT THE FUCK? Well, a dream come true...but now what? _

The answer came swiftly to his sleep-addled mind: pretend nothing happened. Do what you normally do. He sauntered off, took a piss, showered, poured himself a bowl of Fruit Loops. Everything he normally would. He got the paper, checked the headlines, found Carter grinning and rooting through his cabinets. He smiled.

_So perfectly natural._

Each morning, Sam woke up. She woke up, pulling at fragments of half-forgotten dreams. Reaching out for a body that was never there beside her. For the first time, she had woken up not to a dream, but to her mate's foraging. She didn't chase dreams anymore- she was living hers. She felt...exalted. Like she was walking on a cloud. Looking through Jack's selection of food- mostly sugary cereals and microwavable meals- she simply opted to eat what he did. Circling around the table, she was seized by those urges once again. She leaned down, kissed Jack on the forehead, and continued around to the silverware drawer.

_If only this was every morning, I could die happy._

Jack stopped, spoonful of cereal halfway to his mouth. A small patch of his forehead tingled and jumped. Carter continued on as he watched. She wore only panties and his old tee, legs exposed to the grey light and his eyes. His reactions, while distinctly male and predictable, felt embarrassing. He tried to cover it up, and continued eating quietly. She plunked her weight down on the old chair across from him. The kiss didn't bother him, nor did her questionable dress. The regs seemed far off now, like some oft-heard of but largely unremarkable country.

_Sam seems happy enough. Might as well enjoy it._

She was staring at him like a lovesick teenager, and she knew it. But she didn't care. The SGC? They could go to hell. As long as she woke up beside Jack until the day she died, she'd be fine. She felt like either giggling or tipping his chair over and riding him raw. She opted to giggle and enjoy the moment, managing to suppress the animalistic urges.

_Geez, it's like I'm sixteen again._

He passed her the front page without being asked, teeth clicking on the spoon. There wasn't much noise, aside from the crunching of the meal. It was calm, peaceful. He had two bowls polished off before long, but was still hungry. He knew he could always grab a donut at the Mountain, so he held off on the third. Instead, he put the dishes in the sink, looked out the window. The sky was still low, heavy with clouds. Pillars of light broke through the grey mass above, turning everything from his front yard to the horizon into a living Parthenon. Sun was struggling through, columns of brightness seeming to keep the sky aloft.

_What a day. Oh, shit, gonna be late._

She was waiting for him, when he turned around. Her arms wrapped around his neck, and his around her waist. It was natural, it was the way things out to have been from the beginning. Though they had always kept an uncomfortable distance between them throughout the past years, the closeness was right, was inexplicably perfect. Almost as if they had done it every day of their lives. She stared into those dark eyes of his.

_Please don't let this end. Please. _

Fortunately for Jack, his impulse control was far weaker than his lover's. He saw into the seas that were her eyes, and drowned. His lips were on hers before he knew it. He remembered the time loop, how she melted into the kiss then. The same thing happened then, and then, ass too soon, it was over. She broke away, pressed her head against his chest.

"Si...Jack..."

"Should we call in sick?"

"Ye...nossir. Just let me take a shower."

She smiled, gave her mate a peck on the cheek, and reluctantly let go of him. He watched her walk off, and tried to shake how surrealistically natural and right the mornings' events were.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **Extra long for my fanatically devoted. Worth the wait, no? Exactly- and that's why it's worth driving myself into the ground to do it. Review, if you want. Email me, it makes me feel special. Yes, there will be more, and the final act of this little drama has already played in my mind. Stick around, it'll be great. Tell your friends, look at my other work. I know, this is my flagship work...but hey. There's plenty more waiting for you, if you check my profile.

The truck ride seemed to last an eternity. Sam was wrapped up in his clothes, his smell. The truck rumbled idly at a light, Willie Nelson's steel string twanging away. It was almost enjoyable, with him around. She still felt the nagging urge to flick the radio station, try to find some Tapping the Vein or Darling Violetta, but resisted. Jack was enjoying himself, making small talk, and she had no desire to to ruin that. The streets whipped by in a blur.

_So, what now?_

Jack drove, his mouth on autopilot as his mind plodded in circles. He enjoyed having Carter around. That night with her was...was surrealistically normal. Like they had been doing it for years. Like they had never been apart. It jarred him a little, to think like that. His lower brain recognized things more clearly. His mate sat beside him, starring out the window, and that was the be-all and the end-all of the situation. That would never change.

_Where do we go from here?_

Carter made a mental note to ask Daniel more about wolves. Then, it struck her. As natural and perfect as the day was, they were riding into work together. Not only would it raise some eyebrows, but it would be a first. Something warmed just below her navel at the mention of 'firsts'. The last night's events had shown them to be all but a couple. So what if everyone knew? They had known the pair's feelings from the beginning. The pack instinct was to simply let them be.

_Den of wolves. Excellent analogy._

The gate guard waved Jack through, with only an odd stare. Jack felt nervous as he parked in the underground garage, shifted around in his seat. Fidgeted with his keys, waited for Sam to get our first. He wasn't sure about being seen like this. Doubt whispered from the shadows as he sat in his truck, staring at her. She wore a pair of ancient urban BDUs clinched tight with one of his belts, her damp riding boots, and one of his two white shirts. The cotton hung loosely over her, and she wore the shirt untucked. Anyone who looked closely enough would see the trademark mustard stain from a trip to Washington.

_Well, if they didn't know before, they'll know now._

They walked close together, talked in low whispers as if the very walls were conspiring against them. They didn't quite touch, didn't hold hands for fear that someone would see them. They entered the elevator quietly. Sam knew they had an exploration mission planned for the day, so she wasn't too concerned. She'd have to change into her olive drabs, anyways.

_I don't want to give up his scent. I don't want to give HIM up._

Jack stood against the elevator wall, his eyes darting between Sam and the numbers on the display. The privacy made him tense. He COULD take the opportunity, take her in his arms like he did in the time loop, like he did in his dreams. He tried to gauge the time, muster the courage. Before he could, she leapt on him. forced her tongue into his mouth. It wasn't a kiss, it was a declaration of passion. Animalistic, impulsive.

_She beat me to it. Good on you, Sam._

His arms were around her, ready for her embrace. She pushed herself on him, filled with lust. Something inside of her - something unchanged since her ancestors had dwelled in caves- forced the imperative to mark her man to the surface. Their tongues battled briefly as she rubbed herself against him, and just barely broke away before the ding of the elevator. The doors opened, and Sam walked out smiling. She stepped off the lift with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. Some part of her took comfort from the fact that she had warded off the other women on base. The rest of her realized that she really didn't have any competition for Jack, anyways.

_He even tastes good._

Jack rubbed his jaw as doors closed. He smiled, and a lit bit of him flared to life, deep inside. Something he thought long dead, something he had given up on. He smiled, hummed the first three bars to a half-forgotten song, and walked to the lockers. In minutes, he was geared up and in the gate room waiting. The SF's stared at him with something akin to envy, and he stared back. He paced a little, waiting for his companion. The concept of being separate from her wasn't quite registering with him.

_What's she doing? _

She walked in, and he smiled. Daniel and Teal'c were staring at one another, wondering what was going on. They could see the change, sense it. Something was off with her, something different. Some _thing_ was different for both of them, something had changed. Looking around, she saw the change between her and her mate subtly changing the way the pack operated. Both Daniel and Teal'c were quieter. Beta and ceta males that once flirted now cast their eyes down.

_This is how it should be. I hope today never ends._

Siler dialed, Jack tipped his hat to the control room, and everyone watched as the horizontal waterfall explode. Daniel and Teal'c rushed through, and Sam managed a huge, bright smile at her Jack before walking through a step ahead of him. Her eyes glowed as she marched across the event horizon, and the sensation of wind on Jack's face as he whipped along the corridor in space was almost comforting.

_I don't think today could be going any better._

Jack stumbled through the gate, which was an odd occurrence. He looked around at the other members of his team, and realized all of them no longer had weapons. The weight of the P90 in his hands was gone, and the sidearm in his thigh holster was also missing. Everyone was patting themselves down, confused. Jack stared around as he searched himself. Planetary time was the dead of night. An Asgard device stood directly in front of them, red prism gleaming in the light of two moons. A number of seemingly randomly placed boulders and logs dotted the clearing. Jack grumbled and continued frisking himself. He found his only weapon was his knife. Feeling uncomfortable, he sidled closer to Sam, gripping his Ka-bar tighter.

_Shitcock._

Sam had her favorite song going in the back of her head as she slipped through the gate. The MALP had detected no sign of anything but the benign-seeming Asgard device. Of course, as with all Asgard technology, it was never quite benign enough. Jack moved closer to her, and she felt a surge of confidence. Daniel shrugged, and looked around. He turned back to the Colonel

"Now what, Jack?"

"Well...I don't see anyone, and since that doohickey seems to strip us of every weapon we have, I'm guessing it's pretty safe. Check it out."

"O'Neill, I feel this is unwise."

"I know, Teal'c. But we're right here, right? Be ready to dial us out. "

The jaffa nodded, took up position by the DHD.

_That's my man. _

Jack stalked around, scanning the distant woodline as Sam looked on. Daniel was busy scribbling notes, and Teal'c stood with one arm poised over the DHD. Eventually, Sam joined him as he paced like a caged animal. He inspected the boulders briefly, became bored until Sam approached. His eyes lit up, and he had to resist the temptation to take his mate's hand. They walked together, smiling and not saying a word, until the first moon set.

_I could get used to this._

Sam hadn't been able to get the song out of her head. The twin moons were large, and their pale glow made the dull world so...magical. In their light, the rocks seems to glow, the woods seemed enchanting. She wanted to take his hand, walk through them until dawn with her man. At least she did until she heard the whining sound. At first, she thought it some local insect. She knew it wasn't artillery, or a mortar or any other piece of contemporary military hardware. It wasn't until the half-ton hunk of rock landed between Daniel and Teal'c did she realize that it had been fired from a catapult. Both her friends were sent tumbling through the air from the impact.

_JACK!_

Jack's first thought was predictable- protect Sam. His knife came out in a blur. He was dragging her for the forest as more rocks raining from the sky. Daniel was unconscious as Teal'c dashed across the clearing, carrying the archaeologist in a fireman's carry. The jaffa ran for the woods behind the Stargate, the closest cover. Jack and Sam were still some distance away, covering in the wood opposite. She huddled close to him, and without thinking, he wrapped his arms around her and clutched her tight. He shielded her body with his, keeping low.

_Sam.Sam.Sam._

Despite the danger, she was exalted. Each and every part of her -mind, body, soul- told her that this is how it should be. Facing death and danger with her mate by her side. She breathed, eyes open and savoring the closeness of Jack's body. She let him shield her, knowing she would have done the same had she been quicker. She clutched her knife to her chest, knowing as she always did that she would kill or die for her man. Even in the heat of the moment, the music was loud in her mind.

_I'll come to thee by the moonlight, though hell should bar the way..._

Jack felt rather than heard the shelling come to a stop. He stood, releasing his mate and automatically falling into a weaver-style combat stance. His instincts told him that there were things out there, in the darkness. He couldn't quite see or hear them, but his instincts had been tripped and he knew. He pressed his back up against his beloved's, began the slow circling motion that seemed natural. Back to back, he spun with one thought in his mind.

_If I have to die, there's no other person I'd rather have at my side._

Sam spun in the lazy circle, knife held out before her. She spied shapes, humanoid shape, but the motion kept her from seeing specifics. She could tell people were out there, she could all but smell them, hear their breaths. There were lots of them, more than a dozen. The warmth of Jack's presence bolstered her courage to superhuman levels. She knew that death probably lurked in the shadows, but she didn't care. The song, her favorite song came to an end as she circled there, and she remembered the final three lines:

_The landlord's black-eyed daughter,_

_Had watched for her love in the moonlight, _

_and died in the darkness there._

She could not ask for a better death. She could not ask for more than her mate by her side. The thought occurred to her as the first of the figures roared a challenge from the shadows. She imagined two wolves, side by side, as hunters closed. Mated to the end.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Due to the number of pleading emails I have received as of late, I am continuing this story at a frenetic pace that will leave me a shell of a man in no time. The final act will play out soon, but until then, enjoy the ride. Read! Review! Email! I know it's short, and it's not as good as the others...but there are real good parts coming up. I promise.

A man rushed from the darkness, a bearded axe raised high. Jack swung around to face him, slashed at the man. He backed off, fell into the shadows warily and awaited another opportunity for the attack. Jack and his mate continued to circle warily, ready for the next inevitable attack. The moonlight glinted off shadowed blades. Drums boomed and pounded in the distance, setting the tempo for the battle. He felt Sam take a swing behind him, fall back into place. The dance continued.

_Keep moving. Keep Sam safe. _

Like in so many battles before, Sam felt like her senses were on overdrive. But this particular skirmish was different. She could smell Jack, his sweat. Feel his heat, the proximity. It was almost sexual. Death was distant, now. It was her and her mate against the world- as it should be. How many triumphs had they shared, dangers had they faced? And each and every time, as long as he had been by her side, they had won. They had beat impossible odds time and again. The fear of death was gone with him so close.

_This won't be any different._

Bodies were piling up around them. Jack was bleeding quite a bit, having shield Sam with his body. He limped as he turned, feeling the tip of a sword lodged in his thigh shift. Only the thoughts of Carter kept him moving. The knife was like lead, so heavy his hand drooped. His head was surprisingly light, however. He couldn't tell Sam's condition, but hoped she could run. Jack forced his legs to tense, ignored the shooting pains, and prepared to leap forwards and sell himself dearly to cover her escape.

_I'm losing blood. I hope I bought her time..._

She felt Jack tense behind her, knew what was coming, prepared to follow him. The familiar feeling of icewater in her gut was there, the fear of losing him. She couldn't. She refused. She refused to let her man go. She could feel him limping, leaning against her. The imperative in her mind was to help her mate, but she couldn't. Not right now. So, she steeled herself for the onslaught.

_I'll see you in heaven, beloved._

The command was barked, short. A female voice, by the sound of it.

"Stop!"

There were growls from the darkness, feral grumblings of adrenaline-laced men.

"They aren't Kan. You, tell your male to put down his knife. We apologize for the attack."

Jack slumped against her, fell. Something warm and wet against her leg.

"Your other two slaves fled through the Chappa'i, the cowards. Had we known you to be Heralds, we would not have attacked."

Sam was confused. First, she was fighting for her life...now, she was being treated with respect. A heavily scarred woman stepped from the shadows, tall and rangy. Her arms hung limply by her sides. One eye was covered by a crude leather patch. The other looked her over, then shifted to Jack. Sam tried not to stare at her.

"This slave, he is...exceptional."

Lust in her eyes. She looked down at Jack herself, felt the blood drain from her face. His leg was bleeding rather badly, and there were a few long cuts along his arms. His vest was in tatters. She had never seen anyone hurt that badly- not on combat missions, not even when Jack had taken the staff blast to the chest. She was panicking.

"Christ!"she exclaimed, eyes suddenly blurry, "Oh, Christ. Jack. Jack."

"Ah...I take it this particular male is special to you, mistress?"

"Yes. Oh God, save him!"

"Yes, mistress."

_Jack. Please, please live._

Jack faded in and out of consciousness. He caught glimpses as he was carried gently along. Carter, crying over him, indigo eyes wide. Scarred men, armed, with thick leather collars. Trees. Dark sky.

_Aww, shit. Iraq all over again._

"He's bleeding...oh, Jesus. Do something!"

"We have an Altar of Healing at the camp, Herald," the scarred woman said as calmly as she could. The timber of her voice was cracking.

"Faster, maggots! For each bruise on the male's body, ten lashes!"

"Yes, Mistress Melinda!" they said in unison, panting as they jogged. The Colonel was suspended between them via a series of leather straps, his body barely moving. Carter ran along with them, noticing the marks of forced servitude on the men around her. Viciously scarred backs, collars. An aura of fear. She didn't care, all that mattered was Jack. Her man. Her mate.

_Oh God, don't let him die. _

Jack could hear voices as he lay in a familiar, glowing white place. A very familiar white place. A place without Carter, without pain, without anything but himself. He could hear her voice in the distance, little more than a murmur. The pain in his leg was gone. For that relief, he was thankful. He struggled to capture Sam's words.

_Where is she?_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** Triumph! Yes, I return. The vibe is clear, now with a drow/mechwarrior hybridized thingy. Long chapter, worked hard on it for everyone. As for the sword...s'mine. Yes. I own a Hanwei Tiger Katana, if you care to look it up. I couldn't resist, I'm sorry ;). Please, read and review.

Sam was seated in comfort after the slaves carefully placed Jack into the old, etched sarcophagus. It slowly slid shut, working whatever magic it had on her lover's flesh. A chair was pulled from nowhere, and Carter slumped into it. She was numb to the core, worried for her man. She looked around, noticing for the first time the trophies lining the dank, fur-covered tent she now occupied. Steel glinted dully in the rising sun, lying in racks lining the hut's walls. The smell of smoke, oil, blood and sweat permeated the dwelling. A throne of carved wood was occupied by the woman referred to as Melinda. A studded leather vest -almost similar to a bulletproof- and doeskin breeches marked her as someone who valued a certain amount of practicality. Hard-earned scars traced their way across the skin of her arms. Melinda was staring at her, single eye keen and clear.

"He is your mate."

"Yes."

"You are not a Herald. Lord Heru-ur's minions do not dress as you do."

"That's because Heru-ur is dead."

"But...how?"

"Don't ask. Please, all I want is Jack so I can leave. You're free."

The mention of the word 'free' seemed to have an adverse effect on Melinda. She rested her chin on her hand, mumbling to herself. The sight of Carter's tear-stricken eyes and utter lack of concern as to her own fate had left little question as to the veracity of her statements. Sam looked away from the sarcophagus, turning to her erstwhile captor.

"What do you want with us?"

"I...I don't know. The Kan were right...how many years has Heru-ur been dead?"

"Four or five."

"Hmmm."

The scarred woman fell back into thought. Carter wrung her hands, trying to look around, find a way out of the situation. She couldn't leave Jack. She couldn't fight her way out. She had to sit tight. In the meantime, her gaze continued to drift back to the golden sarcophagus. She willed one message to him, through the space that separated them.

_They're coming for us, Jack. Hang in there. _

Melinda's slaves returned, bearing gifts for Carter. Melinda was lost in thought, waved them away. The massive men laid the bundle at Sam's feet, left without a word.

"Is there someplace I can, you know..."

"Yes, around the corner. Be quick. Change."

Carter left her to her thoughts. She didn't want to be away from Jack...but she needed to get out of her blood-spattered BDU's. She couldn't bear it, couldn't cope with her Jack's blood all over her. Her mind did loops that left her stomach queasy. She had to ask directions, but the submissive men managed to point her to an unoccupied yurt. She noticed that all the slaves were male, but she didn't care. Her psyche was too fragile. Too battered from the last forty-eight hours.

_My dreams. My dreams of being with Jack have all come true these last few days. I've slept beside him, ate with him, touched him, smelled him, kissed him...and now it might be taken away. Why? Why can't we just...live? Why can't we just settle down, like normal people, start a family? I'd give anything to hold him again. I'd never let him go._

She shucked her BDU's, threw them into a corner. Most of her gear was gone, stripped away by slaves at their leader's order- they had taken her vest, radio, IDC, rations, and most her webbing. She had been given back her knife eventually, as what appeared to be professional courtesy on Melinda's part. So, she looked at the rough little package she had been presented with and hoped for the best. The contents were simple- soft boots that reached up to her knees, a black silk dress, and a large fur cloak. It was obviously meant for someone who wasn't expected to run, or fight. It was meant to impress, and looking over herself briefly, she knew it did. There was a tooled leather belt that was too big for her. She fiddled with it, gave up, and let it ride high on one hip and low off the other, like a gunslinger. She hung her Ka-bar off of it as best she could, and returned to Melinda's hut.

_Really, do I have any other option? They could kill me and Jack in a second._

The whiteness vanished, parted by the edge of a bleak roof made of oak poles and animal skins. The smell of charred meat, blood and sweat brought him to, as he found himself able to move. He sat up, as best he could, and grumbled.

"Christ. I hoped never to see the inside one of these Goddamn things again."

"Oh, sir...Jack!"

Thin arms around him, across his bare chest from behind. Warmth boiled within him, hearing that voice again. He interlinked his fingers with hers.

"Missed you, Sam."

"Missed you too, Jack.Missed you more than..."

Melinda's eye focused on Jack as she coughed loudly. One hand rested on an ugly-looking flanged mace. It was long, fire blackened with a handle wrapped in twine.

"I have shown you the proper respect, as our traditions dictate. Now, you will do the same. I am Melinda Ya'Tresk, daughter of Melinda Ka'noc. Who will defend your slave?"

"Slave?" repeated Jack, incredulous. He was still sore, aching, unarmed and naked from the waist up. His hands slowly slipped away from his mate's.

"Silence, _jaluk, _you have no say in this matter. Speak once more and I shall have you whipped Again, who will defend your slave?"

Sam looked deep into Jack's brown eyes, saw the pain, the determination. He silently begged her not to do it, not to give in to the barbarism, but what else could she do? She had to stall until a rescue mission could be mounted for them, and he knew it.

_Please don't._

Sam stared at him. She was instantly reminded of the armband incident, staring into those eyes and being lost in the moment. Now, it was him pleading. She wouldn't let Jack fall into another woman's hands -not now, not ever, she told herself.

"I will defend him!"

Rage, a crawling, seeping rage, found its way into her veins. Melinda was trying to take her man, her MATE away from her. Trying to make him **HERS**. The insidious anger gave her muscles subtle strength, her voice a steely quality.

"Hmm. You defend your prize? So be it. Choose your weapon, and we will settle this in the Circle of Equals. "

Sam's gaze swept over the the racks of steel, watching the orange dawn light play over nicked blades. She couldn't quite handle a sword or axe or shield properly, but she knew that she would need the reach they provided. Sunlight glinted, Jack and Melinda stared, and Carter chose.

The scabbard was dented, lacquered wood. The grip was covered in cotton, some sea creature's skin below it. The hilt was blackened iron, inset with gold, and the long blade arced. She hefted the katana, felt the balance even inside the scabbard. Holding the long weapon awkwardly, she pulled it from its resting place. Turning around, she gritted her teeth, letting the anger rise. Melinda grinned, and led her outside into the center of the little town. Jack followed at a distance, all but helpless.

_No one will EVER take Jack from me while I draw breath._

Jack was drawn along. What could he do? Melinda looked at him like any other possession- valuable, but replaceable. He didn't dare test her patience, for Carter's sake. Sam, however, looked incredible. She walked with a proud confidence, sword sheathed. The dress clung to her, beneath a mantle of wolfskin. Never in his life had he ever been more attracted to her. He wished her luck, and was suddenly sobered as the thought struck him like a slap in the face.

_She's willing to die for me. _

The slaves formed a circle, eager to watch another suffer as they did. Melinda paced back and formed, strapping a small shield to her left forearm. Carter threw off her cloak, launching it into the growing crowd of spectators. She pulled the sword free of its moorings, briefly admiring its deadly beauty. The bloodgutter running the length of the steel was sure, moulded to the contours of the weapon. Waves formed from the grinding process exposed strata of metal, creating a subtle sea along the edge. Gripping the weapon, Sam put her right foot forwards and began to stalk her human prey. The tendrils of rage gripped her mind now, intent on following through the primal instincts that had never quite abated.

_Jack._

He watched as his lover circled, a sheen of sweat on her face. The sun was higher in the sky now, the slaves cheering. The war drums had begun once again, setting the ancient tempo of battle so all could hear. Some of the other men looked enviously at him. Jack knew he and his lover couldn't fight their way free. The ritual combat was their sole hope. So, he watched as the women padded, sizing each other up. Carter shuffled and slid, keeping her eyes locked on her opponent. Melinda kept her mace low, shield up as she advanced. The ballet of death began.

Melinda came in hard, three sudden steps and an uppercut-like motion. Sam barely dodge the bludgeon, sidestepping and swinging her sword horizontally as if it were a baseball bat. Melinda parried easily, stepping back and considering her opponent once more. Carter danced a little, unsure but determined. Jack stared at her, marveling at her courage. Another sweep, another slashing counterattack.

This time, however, Carter pressed the assault. She thrust wildly, twisting her blade and scoring a deep gash just above Melinda's hip. Her leathers split, and blood gushed forth. Sam followed up , working her way into the enemy's reach. She came up, elbows swinging hard and connected. Melinda stumbled, swung wildly. Another gash had appeared above the first, more shallow.

_Sam._

Carter stared down the length of her blade at the prostrate, bleeding warrior. She panted, fury slowly abating. Her lips curled back, something feral coming to the surface.

"Don't you **EVER** fuck with me or my man again, or I'll kill you. He's mine, you hear?"

Melinda stared, hardfaced for a moment, before cracking like stone. She nodded.

"He is your slave, then. Take your prize."

"He is my **mate**. My **lover**. My **man**. Never my slave. Now, we're going to leave. We're going to leave, and you're not going to stop us. We're going to go home, and I'm gonna fu..."

"Uhh, Carter?"

Jack was calling out to her. She stared Melinda down a little more, kept the tip of the blade hovering around the woman's face and neck.

"Yes, Jack?" she answered without taking her eyes off her foe.

"Uhh... Carter? Our reinforcements are here."

Sam looked up, noticing for the first time the number of armed men in BDUs who held the circle of slaves at bay. Jack was turning quite a shade of red. Suddenly embarrassed, she nodded and flesh her face flush.

_Oops._

The procession was silent. Jack and Sam lay at the heart of thirty of the SGC's finest. The road was short, maybe two miles of awkward silence from everyone. Sure, prettymuch the entire mountain had known about them before. Jack pondered the situation. He stared a little, not quite comprehending the severity of the situation. A plume of smoke in the distance answered how the airmen and marines had been able to get rifles through the gate- they had run a UAV into the obelisk, shattering the thing. He shrugged, wondered briefly how long it had taken to think that up before returning his thoughts to Carter and the inevitable round of inquiries awaiting them on their return. Three SG teams had seen her declaration of love and...romantic intent.

_There's going to be hell to pay when we get back._


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N:** Consequences. Hope everyone enjoys, stares at my profile and other works. Read, review, for the end is nigh for this story. Natters, ever my inspiration, hasn't spared me the rod. The final chapter will be up in a day or two thanks to her whipping me along. Yeah, I promise the final act in this drama will be something shy of spectacular.

Jack felt everyone's eyes on them as he descended the ramp. The males sensed a change, circled Carter distantly with smiles. The females too felt the coming change in pack structure, and Jack felt his own share of smiles and attention. He didn't feel comfortable. He knew what they saw- firm reprimands, perhaps a transfer. Looking up, he saw General Hammond positively smoldering as he stared down from the control room.

_Aww, Christ. It was going so well._

Almost immediately, Carter was seperated from Jack by the SF's. He was taken to medical, and she to bear the brunt of Hammond's fury without so much as the opportunity to shower or change. She cringed as she stood in parade rest, staring mostly at her soft boots as he pointed and raved.

"I see that being reasonable has finally failed me. Why is that, Major? Why?"

"Don't know, sir."

"We've all known how you two felt for a long, long time. But now...now I have to do something about this! You've crossed the line. "

"Yessir."

Hammond sat back down, rubbing his temples. Once his voice took on a weary quality that she had never heard before.

"How long has this been going on?"

"What, sir?"

"You an' Jack."

"Don't know what you're talking about, General Hammond."

"Carter, be honest with me. The gate guard saw you two come in together."

"I crashed my bike, General. He gave me a lift in. Nothing wrong with that."

"People saw you walking close."

"General..."

"You forgot every elevator has a camera, Major."

"Oh..."

"Yes, that. Caught in the act. Plus, judging by what Dixon and Castleman tell me, there's a little more to the story than you're telling me."

Carter put on her best poker face, determined to protect Jack.

"Yessir."

Hammond sighed, a great gusty thing that carried his frustration. He continued rubbing at his temples as Carter stared straight ahead.

"Carter, what am I going to do with the both of you?"

"Don't know, sir."

"The Colonel is an integral part of the SGC command chain and our most experienced field officer. I can't get rid of him. You're the best field scientist on the planet, so I can't take YOU out of the field either. Moving you two around would mean a massive reshuffling of the SG teams. So, I'm stuck. "

"You are, sir."

"Git, Carter. I need an aspirin to help me think this over. Dismissed."

He waved his left at her as his right went for the top drawer of his desk. Carter performed a quiveringly correct salute and about face, closing the doors behind her.

_Now what?_

Janet gave Jack a grumbling okay to walk around, warning that he would need to check back in to see if the blade piece would require removal. Throwing on a shirt, he nodded a response, lost in thought.

_Someone's going to be moved, or demoted, or transfered. I don't know what I can do to stop it. Carter's young, she has a career ahead of her. _

Janet patted his back as he shuffled out the door for his own session with Hammond. Suddenly, it struck him. He realized there was only one way out. He remembered, once upon a time, his own father had passed down his wisdom. He had kept it close, remembered it

_A true hero isn't brave, or fearless, or better than anyone else. He isn't anything but an ordinary man. A true hero understands what must be done. A true hero is a man who understands what must be done, the price it carries, and does what he must none the less._

Carter lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling like she had that night, three years ago. This was a time like that. She remembered, back then, how she had been forced to confront her emotions. Trying to ignore them hadn't helped. She remembered feeling like a chunk of her soul had been ripped out as he walked down that corridor, SF's dragging him along. Losing him meant losing herself. She realized in that instant three things:

Firstly, that more of her than she could have possibly imagined was tied up in Jack. She didn't ever want to feel the pain she felt when she thought he would die. It was worse than the torture on Netu, worse than the run from the supersoldier, worse than having her genes shredded by Nerti.

Secondly, she would do ANYTHING for him. She would lay her life down without question. She would move heaven and earth to see him smile.

Lastly, she realized feeling like that for a man scared her shitless. She had tried to convince herself that the feelings weren't real, or that they wouldn't last...but there she was. She could deal with the fear, now. She had him, she could do anything.

_Where is he? What is he doing? Is he thinking about me?_

Jack signed the paper, signed away the last thirty years of his life. He cleaned out his locker, threw his heavy canvas jacket over his shoulder, filled the duffel with the little momentos and pictures collected over the last seven years. Photos, especially the one of a married alternate Jack and Carter. A small scarab, a gift from Daniel from a long time ago. He handed over his ID to the SF, remembered the good times, and tried to smile. He couldn't. He was giving up what he loved to do, all his friends. His pack. He knew exactly what was going to happen- he was going to go home, get drunk, and pass out. There was no avoiding it. He would start the long, slow slide...but it would be worth it if Carter got a second chance.

Maybe she wouldn't care anymore.

Maybe he'd end up hurting her.

After Hammond made it clear that no matter what, there would be consequences. But Jack knew, he understood that he could lessen those consequences for her. She loved her career, and he loved her. So, he did what he could.

_Call it a Parthian shot. Call it my last gift to you, Carter. I love you._

"Did you ever think of me,

As your best friend?

Did I ever think of you?

I'm not complaining. .."

A small alarm clock played on, the eerie chanting in background suiting her mood perfectly. Her room had slowly filled over the years with trinkets and junk. She had always felt like she didn't have a home, and compensated by trying to make anywhere she spent a good deal of time hers. She stared at the Luis Royo poster taped to the ceiling. She had once thought of it as her avatar, a way to represent herself. It was of an angel, dress spattered in droplets of blood. Her wings were tattered, and she gripped the collar around a slender, deathly pale neck.

A fallen angel.

But every since that night at Jack's, she felt exalted and full of life. She had found a home, in Jack's den. Her mate. Thinking about him made her smile. She swayed subtly on the mattress to the music, thinking about following through on the promise interrupted. She rather enjoyed the dress she wore, the bandolier, the boots. Made her feel...sexy.

A knock on the door.

She sat bolt upright on her bed, opened it. She expected Jack, wanted it to be Jack, a coy smile playing her lips. Hammond's anger was forgotten in her rush for the door.Instead, she looked down to see one Specialist Janice Polito staring up at her. She frowned, extending herself to her full height, towering a full four inches over the shorter woman.

"Yes, _Specialist_?" she managed to hiss.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am. Can I come in?"

The frown deepened, but Sam nodded. She had often caught the squat woman making eyes at her Jack. While not unattractive and not really a threat to their relationship, the specialist's unrequited affection for her man still meant a chilly, if not outright hostile relationship between the two women. Carter stared at her angrily.

"Yes?"

"General Hammond has decided your punishment, ma'am, on charges of fraternization and conduct unbecoming."

She nodded. Another song came onto the radio, and she barely listened as the other woman uneasily listed her rival's penance.

"Firstly, you are hereby demoted to captain."

That hurt, but it was nothing she couldn't recover from. Her career could recover- in fact, she was long overdue for the jump to colonel. She nodded, steely eyed.

"Secondly, you are docked pay for three weeks."

She had savings. She'd have to pinch pennies, but that would be okay. At least she wasn't out of the Airforce. She could still go through the gate, adventure with her mate by her side...

"Thirdly, you are hereby confined to quarters for a period of two weeks."

Well, maybe not.

"And ma'am, as one woman to another, I think there's something you should know."

"What's that, specialist?"

"Jack was 'retired'. He took the brunt of the blame, submitted his resignation."

Sam felt like she had run full-tit into a brick wall. He had given up everything he had to shelter her. The strength and vitality disappeared. Her legs felt weak as her mind churned. She was very suddenly on her bed again.

"Sorry ma'am. I'll leave you be."

The airwoman snapped a salute, and headed for the door. The radio played on as Sam all but imploded, lyrics mirroring her thoughts as the first tears came to her eyes.

'_Cause I'm broken when I'm open_

_And I don't feel like I am strong enough_

'_Cause I'm broken when I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away. _


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Don't you see me trying to ride out this hurricane?More notes at the end. Enjoy the final piece of the story. It's extra long for you, my fanatics.You, the strength in my arms, the holders of my dreams...

Major Samantha Carter was slowly going insane.

She paced. She worked. She blasted music. She arranged and rearranged the stock furniture of her quarters. It had been a week since the Colonel had retired, a week of hysterical sobbing, punctuated by hours of daydreaming and fantasy. Now that he had quit the airforce, she could be with him. She was overjoyed at that, but going through the Gate without him left her feeling vulnerable. Now, Carter was doing everything in her power to speed time along. The general had reinstated her rank, yes. Out of pity or remorse, she didn't know. But it was little consolation without her Jack. She had done reams of research, slept for hours on end, imagined just about each and every possibility for being reunited with her mate in incredible detail.

The minutes never seemed to end, though.

She dreamed of waltzing the night away with him, Dvorak's _Tempo di Valse_ ringing in her ears. She imagined endless daybreaks spent by his side, the smell of him. The salt of his skin. The roughness of his touch. Watching him eat and sleep and watch her. Lovemaking in every conceivable place and position. Living with him, moving in with him. Raising children, growing old. Marriage. An off-world honeymoon.The sound of his voice, the beat of his heart. The warmth of this body beside hers, each and every night. Of all things, she even fantasized about fishing. She wanted more than anything to share her life fully with him.

Each and every one of those fantasies passed before her eyes, and it hurt. She was trapped, without her mate, without a means to contact to him, to be with him. They had taken her phone, her wireless Internet connection. So, she paced, she raged, she cried. The separation was eating her alive. It was like when Jack had been dragged away with Maybourne...except a hundred times worse, because she knew for sure that she could be with him.

_Jack, wait for me. Wait. I'll be there soon, and we'll be together again. _

Colonel Jonathan O'Neill (ret.) was lost in an abyss of despair. Not a single word from Carter. Teal'c had called, saying that she was in solitary, but she was doing okay. He promised to visit, asked politely how Jack was. In all honesty, Jack was drunk. Being without Carter was harder than he expected. He had no job, no Carter...no real reason or order to his life anymore. The lack of contact wasn't driving him insane, it was killing him. It was killing him as surely as any bullet or knife or poison.

Jack wasn't a flat out boozehound. He ran, did his PT every day, was a functioning member of society. He picked up groceries, did his housework, even repaired the shed in the backyard- after almost six months of not having the opportunity or compulsion. However, he drank. He did not go one day without drinking. He couldn't. It was the only thing that dulled the pain. Before, he could drown himself in work. He was generally too busy or hurt to be depressed. But losing his job, and the perception of losing Carter was wearing on him.

He sat there, slab of cold leftover pork in one hand, beer in the other. Nights spent watching TV and drunken stupors. He was never far from the phone that never rang, the TV or some booze. As the days passed, he knew that Carter wasn't able to contact him. That didn't make him any less depressed, any less frustrated. She had left her clothes at his house, from the night of the storm. There was nothing left of her on them, after they had been washed by the rain. They were reminders of a night that seemed largely fictional. Her clothes were anonymous, if anything. The only indication that they were hers was their size.

_I wonder if I dreamed it all._

By the time she had twelve hours until release, Sam was weeping uncontrollably. She couldn't wait to see her Jack. None the less, as the hours ticked by, nagging doubts began to form. Every conceivable demon crawled from the recesses of her fragile -if brilliant- mind.

_Does Jack want to see me? Will he blame me for the loss of his career? Will he want to be with me? Will he be bitter? Will he be the same? _

The fantasies of their reunion slowly faded in her mind, the future suddenly harsh in contrast. Suddenly, Dvorak and dinners and nights until the stars seemed far off and outlandish.

_Will he want another child? Will he want it with me? Will we move in together right away? What will we do about money? Will we get married? _

Then, it struck her like an freight train that did karate in its off time:

_What if it doesn't work out?_

The tiny shadow of a doubt suddenly became a giant specter that blocked out the light of her life- Jack. What would happen if their relationship fell apart? If she wasn't strong enough? If the Gate killed the relationship it helped build? She knew that her post could keep her away from him for months at a time. Would he understand? Could she take it? Her doubts and fears coalesced into a shade-self, a familiar being from years past.

_You'd better hope you're both strong enough, Sam. You'd better hope so, because if you're wrong, he'll suffer. You'll be the one who forced him to give up his career for nothing. For your selfish desires._

Two phone calls from Daniel, one from the Airforce. Daniel was checking up on him, bringing news of Sam. The last of the two came six hours before Sam's release. Jack had been pacing, trying to watch TV but unable to concentrate. He launched himself at the phone the instant it rung.

"Hello? Sam?"

"Hey Jack."

"Oh. Hey Danny."

"Hey. Yeah. I called to talk to you about that, sorta."

"What?"

"Sam. She's a mess, Jack. Solitary hasn't done her any good."

"Figured as much."

"She'll be out in about six hours, though. That's not why I called."

"Huh?"

"Listen, Jack, we're getting a new commander. Teal'c is heading off to help the rebellion. They're going to promote Sam, I think, but I don't think she'll see the field again. And it's looking like I won't either."

"Oh, shit."

"Yeah. SG1 is still the flagship team, but they're root canaling it. Hell, everything's up in the air. They're going to suspend Gate travel for about a month, around the election."

"Why?"

"I don't know, Jack! All everyone keeps saying is that we need you back. Listen, I know how you feel, but you're needed here. We have a war to fight."

"Daniel, I don't think you get it. I'm getting old. If I go back, I'll die. I'll move left instead of right, take another staff blast to the chest, and I'll die. The SGC needs fresh blood, and me being dead doesn't help anyone."

"But you're experienced..."

"Yeah, but we're not the only heroes in the mountain. Everyone there is great. Remember training those kids?"

"Yeah."

"It's time we hang up our hats, Daniel. You've died once, do you want to do it again?"

"No, but..."

"No buts, Daniel. It happens to everyone. You need to train the next generation. Hell, tell the Air Force that I'll do it. For my standard rates, even."

"Jack, you're being an ass."

"No, Danny. I think this is the first time I've been smarter about something than you. I don't know how or why, but everyone on SG-1 has been given a second lease on life. You came back from ascension, Teal'c survived that hit to the symbiote pouch that should have cut him in half..."

"Jack!"

"I've been thinking about it a lot lately. We've done a lot with our second chances, but there won't be a third. Remember Sha're?"

"How dare you bring her up. How **dare** you..."

"Listen, I know how you felt about her. It wasn't fair to you. I don't want Carter to feel that way. How do you think she'd feel if she got told her husband bought the farm offworld?"

"Husband?"

"Uhhh...never mind. We're not married, it just slipped, y'know?"

"Not really. Jack-"

"Later, Danny. Tell Carter to give me a call."

He hung up. Sitting down, he realized what he had just done. Not telling off the Airforce, not telling of Daniel, but being perfectly honest with himself. He wanted to have a family again, and he wanted it with Carter.

_This is it, end of the line. It's all on Carter now._

She didn't say a word, didn't call, just went right home. The doubt had become a massive thing in her mind. She left the base in a taxi, repeating the words 'What have I done?' over and over again. Those hours she spent with Jack had been some of the happiest of her life. Something had been missing all those years alone. That lack of...whatever it had been had sent her into terrible depressions, wild surges of moodiness and melancholy. And now, she could leave all that darkness behind.

She had to wonder what kind of price she would pay for it. Every time someone good wandered into her life, there was always something to be paid for it. Jolinar sacrificed herself to save Sam. Narim? Dead. Martouf? Dead. Her father? Off with the Tok'ra. She didn't even want to think about Pete. He was something else- she hated to say it, but he was a poor substitute for her Colonel. HE was what she had wanted all along. HE was her mate, the person she wanted to share herself with. In Pete, she had seen shadows of the Colonel. His humor, his attitude- it all mirrored Jack's. The memory of her failed relationship stung hard, but she barely noticed. She didn't have time for regret, she had to see her man.

So, she came home, showered, and wondered. She wondered what she should wear, if she should call first, what he'd be doing, if he'd want to see her, if he was able to see her. A thrill creeped up her spine as she reached for the phone. It was like that rush she felt on her motorcycle, racing along, guided by her instincts alone. No thinking, no planning, just the _thereness_ of the moment. Every moment of that night with Jack had been filled with a _thereness_ that she struggled to describe. The phone rang, and she twirled the cord around her finger.

"This is O'Neill, leave a message."

Full lips pouted an instant before she spieled off a quick message.

"Hey Jack, it's me. Just wondering if you wanted to do something tonight. Give me a call back, okay? Miss you."

She had to bite down on the word 'honey'. She hung up the phone, and began ravaging her wardrobe for something to wear. She looked stunning by the time three in the morning rolled around, and she realized he was probably asleep. So, she got undressed, lay back down on her bed. It was cold without him. She felt herself reaching out for him, but he wasn't there.

_Where is he?_

Jack had the misfortune of falling asleep while watching Animal Planet. He woke up, badly hung over, and groaned. Grey light filtered through the window.At first, his body couldn't decide which end last night wanted to come out. He made it to the bathroom, forced a decision from his flesh, and vomited. Grumbling, he thumbed a pair of antacids and slammed the medicine cabinet door.

His phone beeped insistently at him. Three messages, all from Carter. He cursed to himself. He listened to them, one by one, swearing. He had missed seeing her. He had missed being beside her because of his own failures. So, he called her house. She wasn't there, so he left a message.

"Hey Sam, it's me. Sorry about last night.Call me... I miss you."

He called the mountain, but she wasn't there. Jack didn't know if they were lying or not, he didn't care. He just had to wait. He remembered the few times he had the enjoyment of feeling Sam press up against him. The feeling of her hand in his. He ached for it again. He had known for years, accepted it: she was the light of his life. Without her, he was surrounded by darkness.

_I wonder if she knows how happy she makes me? _

Sam heard his message, smiled. It was good to hear his voice again. She listened to it again, hearing the tightness around 'I miss you.' Her mind was doing cartwheels, hearing her man sound like that. Her heart leapt into her throat. She smiled, attacked her work with a fury that only some rather unfortunate jaffa had known before. She had to get out, see Jack.

_He misses me. He really, truly misses me. I've **got** to be with him._

Jack was waiting at her house around five. Well, we had been waiting since four. There was no car in the driveway. So, he knocked on the door. Nothing. So, he sat there. The sky was getting darker- a little more cloud, a little less sun. So, he sat. He wanted to take her out somewhere- maybe O'Malley's, maybe some other place. He didn't know. He had his own leather jacket on, faded jeans and his 'fancy' cowboy hat. Nothing in particularly made it fancy, it was black, a little faded, but Jack still considered it his 'fancy' hat. Eight rolled around before he decided to call it quits. Then, as he twisted the keys in his truck, he heard the sound he had dreading.

_**WhinewhinewhineCLUNK**._

The transmission dropped onto Carter's driveway. Staring over the hood, he saw reddish-brown fluid start to creep towards the street. He crossed his arms across the wheel, thumped his head into them a few times, and opened the door. It was going to be a long walk home.

_Great. Just what I needed._

Carter sat on his couch, drinking one of his beers disconsolately. She had been there since six, let herself in. She didn't think he'd mind a little sexy surprise waiting for him- naked Carter in his bed? A trail of clothes leading to his room? He had probably been dreaming about it as much as she did, she told herself. Or _more_. But, as nine thirty rolled around, she started to put her clothes back on. She didn't know where he was, and she was getting worried. She stood out on his deck, wrapped in one of his shirts. She stared out into the darkness, willing her man home.

_Come to me, Jack._

It started off just spitting. Jack grumbled to himself a little, shrugged deeper into his jacket. One hand automatically adjusted the hat, for all the good it would do. Soon, the rain was just pouring down, and his teeth began to chatter. He was soaked to the bone.

_Jesus Christ, what a night. No Carter, my truck breaks down, and now I'm getting my ass rained on. What next? Anubis going to appear and kick me in the balls? _

The lights went out, and Carter gasped a little. The rain was coming down in sheets. Distantly, thunder rumbled, and she remembered that night. Being cold and bruised. Wandering through the dark, holding herself, desperate. Reaching Jack's house, finding more than she ever expected. Finding him. Finding that warmth, those perfect moments with her mate. She hugged herself again, craving those moments again. She sat down, watched the downpour, and waited.

Motion. She caught it in the darkness, something more than the rain. She stood, called out into the darkness.

"Jack? Jack, is that you?"

"Carter?"

She smiled and nodded, looking where the sound of his voice was coming from. Lightning flashed close by, followed by a massive peal of thunder. In that single searing instant, she saw him lit by the blue-white brightness. Dark jacket, cowboy hat, jeans, boots. Him alright. A shy smile split her face.

_He's here. Finally._

"Carter?"

She stood there, in navy BDUs and one of his old cotton shirts rolled up to the elbows. Bright eyes looking for his, a smile playing her lips. Jack stopped dead, a little confused. Sapphires in the dark, glowing.

"Carter, what are you doing here? Is that my shirt?"

Darkness descended, and her voice was a little more subdued.

"Oh, sir...I shouldn't have come. This was wrong."

He could hear her steps on the wood, then nothing. The roar of the storm consumed her. A second bolt of lightning lit the sky. He could see her running, dashing past her, soaked in and instant. He moved, caught her in his arms, murmured comforting nothings to her as she pulled close to him. He could feel wracking sobs rip through her. Unconsciously, he pulled her closer, stroked her hair.

"Carter...Sam. Sam," he whispered in her ear above the rain, "I love you."

_I love you more than anything._

She watched him breathe in the afterglow of their passion. His scarred chest rose and fell slowly, calmly as he tucked his arms beneath his head. She smiled.

"Jack, I really do love you. Loved you all this time."

"Love you too, Sam."

Silence.

"Carter..."

"Yes, dear?"

She had to giggle at that. Carter enjoyed playing the part of his faithful wife.

"Carter...Sam. Sam. I want to be with you for the rest of my life."

"I want to be with you too."

"Sam...I want you to quit the SGC."

THAT caught her by surprise.

"Why?

"I want to be with you. No cloak and dagger bullshit, neither of us coming home in a box at the end of the night. Be a research geek, I don't care. We've both died once, almost died a lot more often than that. We have a second chance, and the next time we die, it's going to be our last."

She thought about it for a moment.

"Jack, I love you. I love what I do. I was born to do this."

His face fell, and her heart broke. She continued speaking.

"You're right, Jack. I want to be with you. I'll put in my resignation tomorrow."

She curled up close, feeling the beat of his heart through her fingertips. She wanted nothing more than to settle down with her mate, start her own family. They had shared enough adventure. She just wanted to share her life fully with him.

"So, Jack...I was thinking about kids today..."

The storm raged on outside.

**FIN**

**A/N:** Wow. I said long, I didn't mean THIS long. Surprising, even for me. Well, it's the end of the line. A Summer Storm has been great fun. Really, this was unexpected- it was supposed to be one chapter. Gah...I just ran on impulse. No clue when it's set, what the conditions are. All in all, I think it turned out pretty well. The amount of support received has been staggering to say the least (3150 hits and change, fifty reviews). Once again, thanks everyone.

I'd like to thank everyone properly before I explain the end. Everyone who read, thanks. Everyone who reviews, MANY thanks. However, there is one person I'd like to thank for her nigh-endless support and goading and patience with me. That person is Natters, of course, my co-author on Monkey Business (which everyone should go read, anyways- check our profiles) and faithful friend. She has managed to put up with my whining, wheedling, and endless affections through the course of the story. Once again, thanks to m'Natters.

Finally, I suspect that the fluffier fans will be a little disappointed in the end. I know, shameless fluff is good every now and again. But I believe that what makes the SJ relationship special is the suffering and pain and sacrifice that the pair must endure. Love isn't easy, and this particular relationship is particularly hard. That's what gives it value. So, there was sacrifice. There was pain. As always, both Sam and Jack had to give something up to be together, and that's what makes the story special to me. They finally gave something up.

Thanks for reading everyone, please review if you can.


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